


Totally Rust

by Tyellas



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Bad Flirting, Cinnamon Roll Nux, Drabble, Gen, Nux Lives, Slit Lives, Snark, he is not a cinnamon roll, maybe if you dropped a cinnamon roll in the sand he's what you'd get
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-15 03:42:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11797680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyellas/pseuds/Tyellas
Summary: Nux, after surviving the Fury Road, wants to do more to help the Citadel. Remix: Slit survived too, and he thinks this is absolute rust. He watches and snarks while Nux approaches Furiosa – only to find that somebody else has their eye on him.





	Totally Rust

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jaetion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaetion/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Not Rusted Yet](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4275510) by [Jaetion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaetion/pseuds/Jaetion). 



> Such a pleasure to do a remix of one of Jaetion's fics!

Slit grunted as he heaved his injured half-life driver out of a dark Citadel corridor into the main repair area. He might have been leaning on his driver somewhat himself. Nobody worth their rations had walked away from the Fury Road unscathed. “Can’t believe I’m heaving you all this way so you can suck up to a filthy traitor.”

Nux said, “Then why are you still here?”

Slit spat at one of the Wretches who were suddenly everywhere inside the Citadel. It was satisfying to see one flinch away. “What else am I going to do? Be in the dirt with a bunch of quarter-life garbage?”

Nux took this seriously. “Could’ve gone to Gastown. Or joined up with the Rock Riders.”

With his free hand, Slit thumped his scars. “We’re War Boys! Fukushima kami-crazy War Boys! Citadel is our place. They're our V8s.”

“And the Imperator touched the sun, then came back and salvaged us! That makes us her War Boys now.” Nux added, “It’s like Capable says: if something’s really ours, we can give it away. Like the aqua-cola. Like you’ll give Razor Cola back to Max when you’re done fixing it. He came out to salvage us, too - you need to sit down?”

Slit had uttered a deep groan. “Picturing that blood bag driving hurts my brain.” And giving up Razor Cola, that gorgeous nitrous-hyped V8, to that freaky feral was going to hurt Slit like all of his art-scars getting recut at once. But Slit was a War Boy, and orders were orders.

“He does drive. He was driving the day we…” Nux straightened his spine. “Wait up, there she is. Look how strong and chrome she is. Admit it, the Imperator deserves to be the new Warlord.” Slit grimaced and checked out what was left of Imperator Furiosa. She still looked different than she used to, pale and weird. Something about the eyes, Slit decided. Her eyes had a shine to them, like she was a Wife and a Warlord and something from _out there_ all in one person.

Slit admitted, “Her new scars ain’t mediocre. Chrome one on the right brow, there.” It made Slit look good if a fighter like Furiosa had a munted-up right eye, like he did.

Nux levered himself away to stand on his own. “Leave me here. I have to do this myself.” Slit dropped his arm from Nux, watched Nux limp over on his metal leg. Slit frowned. They’d have to make another leg. Better balance, better-looking. Good thing it hadn’t been Nux’s pedal foot.

He watched as Nux dared to approach Furiosa. Joe-damn it, she was really looking at Nux. Listening, nodding. Slit had thought Nux was getting lumps in the head, wanting to talk to Furiosa about ‘doing more’ and ‘being responsible.’ Words that, if you scrubbed off the rust, were really ‘make me an officer’. Nux had been blessed by the Immortan’s gaze. Despite that, he’d let the wheels in his head spin too fast and turned traitor.

Maybe that was why, as the minutes passed, Nux was allowed to stay teetering in front of Furiosa. Why Furiosa was listening to Nux.

Holy V8 and all the oil changes! Now Furiosa was touching Nux! She’d reached out and steadied him with her flesh hand. Any minute she'd be blacking up his forehead as an officer.

“Huh.”

Slit whipped around. One of the Sisters had appeared behind him, like a Citadel ghost. Slit jumped away, yelping, “Toaster!”

The short, sturdy woman crossed her arms. She was grimy and wearing twice as many clothes as a breeder did, but she still had that Wife shine about her. “It’s _Toast._ What are you doing? You don't look too happy. Not planning anything, are you?”

“Schlang you, traitor. I’ve always followed orders!” The moment Slit said this, it didn’t sound half as righteous as he’d meant. “Go on! You’re in charge, tell me to do something. You’ll see!”

Toast rolled her eyes. “You just want the attention.”

Slit looked back over his shoulder at Nux. “Like he doesn’t.”

Toast half-smiled. “From Furiosa? We all do.”

Slit turned back to Furiosa and Nux. They looked done. Nux was walking away. Until Furiosa shouted out to Nux, “Nux! How come you aren’t teaching them to drive?”

Nux yelled back, “Gonna drive for Capable! She’ll be my driver and I’ll be hers, and she’ll lead your Citadel wherever you want. She’s a beacon, she’s a light in the dark like - like a nitro flame!”

Slit gaped. Nux was _his_ driver. He was getting traitored all over again.

Toast’s flat voice muttered, “Capable? I wanted her to stay here and be safe.” Slit turned back to Toast. She looked as filth as he felt about what they’d heard, burying her forehead in her hands. Slit noticed something else shine about her, a scar on the right side of her own face. “Now he’s giving her the V-8 sign. We talked about stopping this smeg.”

“What smeg?” Slit asked.

Toast waved her hand, dismissively. “Your culty…stuff. Worshipping somebody. Getting people to think for themselves instead.”

There it was again, those wheels turning inside your head being good now, not bad. Slit said, “You sure about that? Nux was thinking. Now see what he’s done.” Enraptured after his encounter, Nux was loping off towards the vehicle bay in the shadows. Furiosa stood there for a minute, shaking her head, before following him.

Toast made a noise of pure exasperation. “Sounds like Nux is in love.”

“LOVE??” Slit spat. “Totally rust. Imperator’ll never trade paint with Nux.”

“I mean, with…why am I explaining to you? Why am I even talking to you? Like you, out of all the War Boys, would listen.” Toast turned away, crossing her arms again.

Slit felt chrome with pride that Toast saw how tough and stubborn he was. He’d liked having her glare at him at chest level. To get her to turn back, Slit asked, “All that there mean Nux is gonna teach you to drive, too?”

Toast snapped, “I already drive.”

“So who’s your lancer, then? Told you I can follow orders!”

Behind both of them, a boy’s voice chimed, clearly. “That’s him. That’s the schlanger who spat at me. He said we were quarter-life garbage!”

Slit turned around. Sure enough, it was the half-grown Wretch from before. Behind him were two bigger Wretches. Much, much bigger.

One of the big Wretches cracked his knuckles, one by one. This took an extra moment. He had six fingers. “Well, li’l mate, it’s three quarter-lives to one half-life. Even if we split a quarter-life between us when we're done...”

The second Wretch flicked dreadlocks out of his eyes with a broken-toothed smile. "It's more'n he'll have, ay?"

Something told Slit that, unlike most War Boys inside the Citadel, they weren't bluffing. He inhaled, squared his shoulders, balled up his fists.

Before anything could go down, Toast shocked Slit by stepping between him and the Wretches. She didn't need a lancer, he realized: she was as brave as one herself. “All right, everybody stand down. What’s going on here?” The half-grown Wretch piped that he’d been getting old oil for the Treadmill cogs when Slit had had his opinions. Toast nodded, and mmm-hmmmed, and turned back to Slit. "You say you’re taking my orders, War Boy?”

Slit found himself saying, “Yes sir!”

Toast sighed, once. “Then you’re swapped for the day. Pup, you come with me and we’ll go ‘round the repair bay. War Boy, you go work on the cogs. You two will make sure he does that, right?” After their grinning assent, Toast frowned. “Make sure and leave him in one piece, too. I’ll check up on you, War Boy…in a while.”

Slit half-stomped, half-limped after the Wretches. He held back on snarling with frustration. Toast gave orders the same cool, firm way the Imperator did. He stretched and flexed his scars. He'd make sure she had something to see when she came around.

Besides, the longer he took to finish chroming up Razor Cola, the longer it would be before that V8 of V8s drove away.


End file.
